The Holmes Mother
by You Mother Hugger
Summary: After the demise of loving husband, Heather Holmes decides to visit, but when suddenly a serial killer case is mentioned, she reveals the entire homage to the internet's dearest and most split-opinioned webcomic of the internet. Don't take too seriously!
1. Chapter 1

(A/N I changed stuff a lot, the headcanon ages are COMPLETELY different than the ones from the original dA release! All the characters share the same birthdays with the actors they're played by of course since I'm lazy. Ooh, Age for Mummy Holmes is 62~! I should really stop talking. Forever. Originally started roleplaying with Alyssa somewhere in the middle of this first chapter, here.)

It was the morning March 14 2012. Sherlock revealed he was alive approximately 31 days before. Molly suggested it as "The Fans' Valentine" instead of coming back in another 3 years. Things had only just been settled again, John completely forgiving him just a week ago.

The Flat was quiet to John, almost too quiet to be a normal day. Something must have been going on. He walked downstairs from his room to find Sherlock, completely still on the couch like any normal day, but his flicked eyes had shown a frozen, lifeless expression. Something was definitely wrong.

"Sherlock?" He replied with a slight almost inaudible sound, "mmhmm?"

"You don't seem like yourself today."

He sits up, staring blankly into space, focusing on his own thoughts rather than what he was seeing, and calmly said: "Dad died last night in a car accident." like it was no big deal or anything. "What? That's horrible!"

"Yes, I had my moment earlier this morning." John had felt an unpleasant feeling that was unsettled in the room. Sherlock never talked about his family other than when his brother would barge in or get in the way with cases. Only the very occasional mentions of his mother, other than that, John has only seen pictures. "Mother was devastated."

John was holding his morning coffee so he set it down for the moment. "Well is she going to stay somewhere for a while? With Mycroft or something?"

He clasped his hands together, resting his chin on them. "That's the situation. She visits him at least every couple months. And she decided to stay here instead because she doesn't see me that much."

"She has every right to! You've been buried in cases for two weeks and you just got them all finished. When's she coming over?"

"Tomorrow. She's been living in America for three years now. She got on the plane..." Sherlock paused to turn on his phone and check the time, "20 minutes ago."

John then tried changing the subject. "You know Sherlock, I've never heard anything about your family until now." He simply looked up in reply, "I'm a sociopath. There's no other reason except that I just wasn't a clingy child. Besides, London in the 80s; What more is there to explain?" Sherlock had looked away again, a slightly worried expression. Actually, it was a poker face. But John had known him too long to not notice.

"Well, I for one can't stand to see you in any appositive state, so it's kind of obvious that you love your family, right?"

He turned his head to him, looking him straight in the eye for a moment before talking again. "Love is a dull word, I would rather say 'appreciate', but yes."

"Ok. Your words, not mine. But nevertheless, family is always there...and I guess-"

"You guess that since you're the only one I could ever call "friend" that I would consider you family? Then yes, even with as normal as you are, I would definitely agree after everything we've seen." John was shocked, actually. He almost never saw him have any sentimental-like feelings at all on any levels. He didn't know what to say, even. "Wait, ...Really?"

"Yes!"

John pauses, "...Uh, Thank you...Sherlock."

As if anything could get more out of the ordinary.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock and John walked downstairs, and Stood at the bottom step. "Shouldn't you wear something a little more formal?" John asks, giving him a slight glare. "She isn't the 'Formal' type. Not at all."

The new doorbell rang, as it was fixed last night. Sherlock curled his hand over the doorknob, pauses for a short time, and opens the door. "Sherlock~!" She gives him a hug. "Hello, Mum." he says with a slight smile.

She had shoulder-length chestnut brown hair that was lined with quite a bit grey hair that she didn't mind to show, eyes were a faded green, skin was only fairly pale, lipstick was a light pink. The cheekbones had definitely been handed down from the father, because she had this slight heart-shaped head. Her clothes, a green overcoat that was light and fit for spring, some white colored jeans, and a shirt that was somewhat hidden by the coat, but John could see that it was white. She actually looked young for 60 something, as she held an iPad.

She kissed him on the cheek, as a pink mark had shown, that was wiped off only a minute after he had realized it was there. "Hah, why didn't you tell me you had a flat mate?" He looks at his phone again, "But I did tell you-" he realized a red exclamation point notification on his SMS. She held out her hand to John. "Heather Holmes." He shook her hand, "John Watson."

The three went upstairs into the living room, as she set down her suitcase right next to the couch. "I got you something that I thought you'd like, I was gonna wait until July on your birthday, but I couldn't!" she got out a square box that was fairly small wrapped in simple white paper, it couldn't even be 8 inches across. "Well go on, open it!" she says. Sherlock carefully ripped the paper, and the box was labeled. "It's an Apple TV. You can do AirPlay on it, it's literally the only thing I used back at the house."

They eventually changed to a different subject. "Sherlock? NOT Clingy? That's a complete lie!" she laughed. "Sure, he's a sociopath now, but you should've seen him when he was in secondary school!" Sherlock had an expression on his face that said: "Here it goes."

"Sherlock always did what I said, no complaints, he was a gentile! Before he hid in corners trapped with his own intellectual mind, he was as the top of the chain in eighth grade!" she uncovered the iPad and went to the photos app. "There were girls left and right, I have so many pictures on this thing that I scanned from back then, there are 20 different albums with each of the girls that he had pictures with! The largest one is with Molly."

"Wait, WHAT?" John exclaimed. Sherlock was actually smiling for once, telling the story. "There were four different elementaries in the school system, I was at north and she was out south. We eventually met again after college, and here we are. She was the date to the secondary graduation dance." Heather had found the picture from that, Sherlock definitely did not look like what he did now, casually smiling as if he did every day, he held a rose with Molly who was wearing a pink dress. John took a closer look.

"...Sherlock, you were a BLOND?" He laughed. "He died his hair as soon as he stepped out of those doors of that school! It came from his father's side, he described it as a curse! I should send these to her, you know?" She pleasantly smiles.

"So, Mom, what have you been doing for, I don't know, the past 3 years?" something had changed in the room. She started laughing. Wildly, actually. She sat up from the chair. "So much, Sherlock. SO much..."

_"Let me tell you about Homestuck."_

"What?" regarding Sherlock's quizzical look on his face, John had recalled the name from somewhere. "The name is familiar." he says, as Sherlock gave a blunt: "Nope, never heard of it." Heather took off the overcoat she had been wearing, and on it was this monster-like thing that looked like a blue, Japanese looking knockoff of Slimer. John had definitely seen it from somewhere.

"You see, on April 13th, 2009, the exact day I had settled into the house in America with your father, it was the 13th Birthday of this little trickster right here." She says, holding up the iPad, as she showed the first page.

"John Egbert..." The name drawled off by instinct from John. She snaps her fingers and says "RIGHT!"

"And why do I suddenly care about this?" He was "shushed" and told to listen.

"And basically over the web, he has 3 friends-Dave, Rose, and Jade. Short story, Dave lives with his adoptive brother, Rose and her mother, and Jade and...her dog, or...her grandfather, or something...I don't know, i gotta reread that part." she thinks for a moment, and continues. "And there's these other 12 kids of an alien race, most commonly known as Trolls after a lot of them basically trolling the 4 back home, and they're the ones that get the popularity mostly. The hogs of the popularity are usually Gamzee or Karkat..."

"Is this even going anywhere?"

John was on his laptop, ignoring that comment by Sherlock, as he went to his own blog, and got an image of graffiti he took on his latest post. "You mean this?" it was a picture of what she had explained before, It was a mural of all 16 characters, while there were another four along with them that looked like the first four. "Yeah! And those in the corner are the alpha kids! Introduced during act 6, of course. You see the kids are paradox clones of their guardians, John being different, he and Jade are paradox clones of the opposite gender, there's more of an explanation...you can get into the fandom quicker than the actual thing." Her discussing went overboard, as she went too far into it.

"We haven't solved this case fully, yet. Basically there's been odd deaths going around in London, they were obviously killed and posed after death for something, and each of these characters have been spray painted on the nearest wall you come across when finding the body."

"What? REALLY?" She had a smile on her face. John put an example of one of the deaths, this certain one was of a man, presumably in his early twenties, possibly the youngest he could be was 18 with fingerless gloves, triangle shades, white shirt and a grey baseball cap that had a large stab wound in his chest that stained the white shirt dreadfully. "That's Bro Strider!" she brought up a folder of bookmarks of various pages of Homestuck, in a folder of deaths. She brought up the page, and John brought up the picture of the spray painted copy of the panel on the wall of the victim's bedroom.

"It's a match. Although this would be the wrong time to by so happy right now, knowing this is an actual death, but this guy got it straight on! What are some others?" he brought up a folder of the other deaths, as she looked at the latest one. "Actually, this one only ended up getting in a 24-hour coma, she had accidentally set off a bomb that was put in her mailbox."

"That's Jane Crocker's near death. And judging from the dates these were taken, this serial killer's jumping around...I wonder if he'll put their blood in coffee or something, like in the panel that people say that Hussie was messing with our heads." Sherlock was looking out the window and saw red and blue flashing lights. "There's been another." he said aloud. As soon as he knew it, he had gotten a text from Lesterade.

"One of the Mural Murders again. Right across from 221b, if you haven't noticed yet." He put his phone back in his pocket and got on his jacket.

"Really?" she jumps up with an expression that looks much to happy for the reaction to a death of an actual human being. "Must run in the family." John puts it bluntly, as he shrugs, and the three walk out of the building and across the street. John smiles at Sherlock with a heavy heart and hopes set high.

"What are you so happy about?" Sherlock had smirked, as He had been too. "Well, I'm just happy you're spending time with your mother, Sherlock." John smiles, as it was "ironic for his sociopathic behavior" he thinks to himself. "Oh, shut up." He laughs, as they walked into the building, however Heather had the highest expectations.

Everyone had been out of the room already, even Anderson, Sgt. Donavan, and Lestrade had gotten out of the way, as ever since Sherlock had come back, he was more easily agitated by them. He looked over the two victims. One male, one female, both aged in the ratio of 14-16 year old and shot in the chest, and like the other cases, obviously moved to against the wall and posed to hold hands. There were spray-painted symbols of Cancer and Libra on the wall. "Obviously Karkat and Terezi from the messed up time line. But this is different, however." She leans in closer. Sherlock's phone made a text tone, as he pulled it out of his pocket to see what had been notified. "Lestrade texted me their information. These are the only two victims who have been identified. Their names are Andrew Morris and Michelle Andrea."

She gets out her own phone and does a quick search of the two on Facebook. Sherlock looked at the female's left hand, seeing that she had a red mark around her ring finger. "Michelle here was definitely engaged. The impression on her hand says that the ring was too small, so either she took it off for that reason, or the killer did."

"The answer is of course B. Who would take off an engagement ring that costs 200+ pounds at least in the presence of the one who gave it to her? And also, this doesn't match any of the death panels. This was a piece of fan art." She gets up from her position and goes on "In fact I know the artist who drew it. She's nice. I once met her at a Homestuck cosplay meetup in the middle of Sakura Con." They giver her a strange look, as Heather had shrugged it off.

"There's markings of some sort on his arm." Sherlock says as She pulled up the victim's sleeve to view more. "What is it?" John asks as she smiles, "It's alternian writing." Heather answers, as she takes a snapshot of it. "I'll save this for reference, my friend Mitt created the translator for it, actually. Could be some creepy nerd thing, or a serial killer's quirk that's been missed throughout all the situations." Sherlock looked on.

"What Are you looking at?"

"She's a Definite previous cutter, the scars could be a month old. Nothing to do with the case, though." a moment of silence sweeps the area until a song plays. _"One love, One love, to last forever, to last forever, One love, One Love-"_

The two Holmes stared at John, as he picked up his phone to see it was a blocked call. "Uh, Yes?"

A voice that was obviously filtered by something filled the other line. "There's something that you missed." He slowly replies, "Who is this?"

"You're just going to have to wait until a mistake." they hang up, as John put the phone back in his pocket. That was weird.


	3. Chapter 3

John browsed YouTube on the Apple Tv. Sherlock hadn't cared or used it yet. Speaking of him, he walked in to simply pity him, as in his eyes, he had dropped to the lowest level. "Watching cat videos? Seriously? John, you can do better than that. I hear they have a nice selection of old forgotten cartoons and movies that companies don't pay attention to. To put it bluntly, they don't give a flying-"

"Stop. Now."

He switches to a new video labeled "[S] Sleepwalk (ver 1)", as Heather quickly ran into the room. "THIS FLASH. RIGHT HERE." she exclaims in all seriousness. "It messes with your mind! Version 1, right? Nepeta was ALIVE along with Equius and also there was a mistake and Andrew gave Dirk Red instead of Orange eyes, but still." about another 3 minutes passed and the flash ended.

She takes the remote, Switching to Netflix. "Oh, it looks like you already set it up for Instant. Torchwood is on." John looked as if he was interested, and watched as the intro started. Sherlock got on his coat and phone as he went out the door. "Well, i'll leave you to your Science Fiction. I'll be at the Morgue trying to come to a possible conclusion."

"Good luck with that, you don't have any solid info yet." He left without a word as the two continued to watch.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch 4 - The Whisper

He saw him. On the top of the roof. "Keep your eyes fixed on me." and "This call is my note." the phrases echoed in his head. He ran towards the building to be stopped by someone who had been biking, running into him and knocking John to the ground. The next moment he had known, the dead cold eyes were seen, and he remembers thoroughly, that his eyes had never looked so dead and bright blue rather than his normal shade of an aquamarine-green type of color. The last moment. He held his wrist to feel nothing moving or living. Sherlock Holmes was Dead.

John woke up sweating. He thought vigorously to himself, "What a horrible dream." He looked at his nightstand to find out that it was 3 am. No use going back to sleep now. John had lain still in his bed, realizing he could hear a faint sound of the shower, and laughing. Was there singing, too? He got on a simple robe, and trudged downstairs to find Heather in the same state-Night gown on, standing next to the door to the bathroom.

A voice was coming from inside the room as she laughed. "Ssshhhhhh, listen!"

"I heard there was a secret chord, that David played and it pleased the lord...But you don't really care for music, do ya?"

she's giggling like a child, and whispered as she explained. "Have you noticed that you've never seen Sherlock NOT in the room in the morning? And how he hums when he plays the violin, almost Inaudible?" Come to think of it, she was right. Actually, he had thought he had heard Sherlock signing along to the composed music during the Adler situation.

"Well it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall then the major lift, the baffled king composing, Hallelujah..."

John listened closer now. It was actually very professional, a natural talent. She smirked, "Now I don't like to brag but I was the one who gave him that ability to range that wide." the two smiled until they heard the running water stopped. They quickly went back to their rooms as Sherlock continued, as He dried off, then putting his own robe back on. "Your faith was strong but you needed proof, you saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty in the moonlight overthrew ya..." He opened the door just in time to hear the slightest click from John's room, who had closed his own door hoping that Sherlock didn't find out that he and Heather had been listening on to his singing. He continued without thought.

"She tied you to the kitchen chair, she broke your throne and she cut your hair..."

But of course, he had already known. He didn't say a word, he just smiled and laughed a but, continuing on, as he went back to his own bed to look up some more "research" on his laptop. And by research, he meant watching a single movie before making an early breakfast.

"And from her lips, she drew them, Hallelujah..."

John, in the other room thought to himself, "Well there's something new." as he tried to take a quick snooze before his alarm would go off, signaling the break of dawn.

"Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah..."

The flashes came once again, "Damn it to hell. Not again." he thought to himself, as he tried to wake himself up, but failed. These nightmares had been going ever since the night and still hadn't stopped even after Sherlock came back.

Although the singing had bled through his thoughts, as he could hear Sherlock's singing, which had made it less suffering. "Baby, I've been here before, I know this room and I've walked this floor...but you still lived long before I knew ya..."

The flashbacks had come, of his obsidian gravestone, labeled Sherlock Holmes, under the old tree in the cemetery. "One more Miracle, one more." he heard his own words repeat again.

"I've seen your flag on the marble arch, love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah..." John paused for a moment, freezing the flashback, remembering the man that was dressed in black, and his faced covered by his scarf and hat. "Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, Hallelujah..." The one that had only shared a single glimpse with.

"I heard there was a secret chord, That David played and it pleased the lord, But you don't really are for music do ya?"

That had been the one and only Sherlock Holmes. and he had seen his only friend mourning his gravestone that had been a lie itself. "Well it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall then the major lift.

The baffled king composing, Hallelujah..." Standing only 20 feet away from the event, even.

"Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, Hallelujah..."

To think, maybe he had even seen him crying, actually. Possibly knowing and observing only a fraction of the damage he had left on him. John, at the moment, remembered a slight whisper that had stood in the back of his head since that day that he hadn't paid attention to till now.

_"I'm Sorry."_

_It was that very realization that made him question...__**"Am I in love with him?"**_


	5. Chapter 5

The Holmes Mother Ch5

The yellow spray-painted, stark looking, shot-at smiley had looked upon the room like every day. Sherlock walked into the living room with sheet music in his hand, to find John on his laptop, writing a new blog post, no doubt. He picked up his violin and played. The Doctor listened, and smiled, because he had recognized the tune from earlier. They both hummed, then Heather and Mrs. Hudson came into the room. "Sherlock, it's been nice and peaceful since you stopped shooting bullets into the wall!"

"He did that before he moved out too, you know." The Holmes Mother laughed, "The same gun that his father gave him, too!" Sherlock continued on with his music, as Heather had been on the MS Paint Adventures website to save the illustration of the death of Feferi, and opened it up in Art Studio on the iPad to do one of those Panel-Redraws that you'd see on Tumblr after updates. She got out her iOS Stylus that hung from the necklace she had on from time-to-time. Mrs Hudson walked into the kitchen to make her own breakfeast, and took it to her room.

She had a fairly streaky-like lineart style that you'd see in rough sketches by a small-leaded mechanical pencil. Her colouring was a simple Bucket-fill and added details with lighting and shadow later on.

John looked on, with an expression that said: "Impressive." She had come to a sharp stop, and looked up at Sherlock. "So, you we're sharpening up your projection skills this morning? Because the entire street could here you." Sherlock suddenly hit a wrong note that sounded like it came from The 60's Horror B-Movies, as he dropped his bow onto his stand.

He dropped his smile that he had had while playing. "How long we're you standing there? Did you find that AMUSING? I thought you two were sleeping!" He tried his best to hide his embarrassed expression, as it was very unlike him, for a sociopath and all. "Pfft, Oh, Come on, Sherlock, It's pretty obvious. As if I didn't know of your normal 'Hit Parade' for your infinite Dirk-Strider-Musical showers."

"HIT PARADE?" John was laughing uncontrollably now. "I'm not having this conversation." The detective crossed his arms. As the army Doctor tried to catch his breath, "But c'mon Sherlock, We both think it's rather charming," losing control once again, he was able to blurt out the end of his statement, "like a little song bird to wake us up!" he started laughing again with Mrs. Holmes to tease at their favorite Detective/Violinist/now, Adam Lambert.

Sherlock marches out of the room as they continued to laugh, with his arms straight up in the air, that needed to be put in a picture and captioned for tumblr with "I'M DONE" written in Capitals in the impact font of the color white.

The laughs fade away, as they permanently catch their breath for the time being. "The only thing that's harder to believe Is that the only person who's more of a drama queen than Sherlock is Mycroft, with his umbrella twirling and everything."

"Mycroft? Never would've guessed, Should we go after him?" John replies with sarcasm and a smirk, "Oh not he has enough problems, with his helicopter-summoning, and that minor place in the British government, I think he can handle himself for now." she smiles, looking down at he iPad as she exported the finished art to her camera roll. "You know, Sherlock was in the highest level of Select Chorus in secondary school, he stopped after his natural talent for violin was discovered. And when he got into freshman year, dead silence. Never spoke another word about it! Although I do have old cassette tape recordings from back when he was still in the house. Simply AMAZING."

He laughs. "Aww, that's actually sweet! But why the downfall in High school?"

"Oh, come on, with that hair of his, he was considered a fruity! He didn't want any rumors to be spread, or any social activity at all, actually." Opening up tumblr, repeatedly pressing the Like and Reblog buttons on posts, as she continued. "So he kept a low profile, soon after that long period of time of his separation from everyone else, he became a sociopath and got used to it quickly. Besides, the girls that were all over him before had become boring and obnoxious, and Molly had moved away for the time being."

"Ah, I wouldn't blame him." their chat was soon interrupted though, by Sherlock whom had came into the room exclaiming "I'VE GOT IT." as he threw the folder of files onto the coffee table."Apparently all the deaths corresponded to the matching sign they shared with the character, and they aimed for people who had a good reputation, but couldn't be recognized by just anyone! The Libra was tumblr famous, the Cancer was a comic dubber of YouTube, and the others were various of the same categories, along with parody makers and cosplayers!"

"Of course, I thought I saw the Bro Strider victim from somewhere! I met him at Anime Boston!" She held an expression. "And the answer is in the Morgue!" Sherlock yells, putting on his jacket as the others did the same.

Sherlock led the two, as he was running to the cab he had called. "To St. Barts!"


	6. Chapter 6

The Holmes Mother Ch 6

(A/N Oh look overprotective mother ahead because she has to swear oh well she's in the homestuck fandom what do you expect)

Getting out of the cab that had been prepaid, Sherlock heard a well-known scream that could've only come from the one and only. "MOLLY!" He exclaims, opening the door to the morgue. The presumed killer wore a god tier pullover sweatshirt of the void, holding his one handgun with both hands. With a swift turn and pull, he attempted to shoot her, but had missed. No doubt he had horrible aim.

"Sweet little Leo, the hyper little kitten! If only I had something to beat you with. Oh, well." he had shrieked in a ridiculous voice as if he had just come back from laughing, as Molly ran into the other room. Turning to see Sherlock, the killer speaks a calm monotone voice. "Stubborn Gemini, the proper genius!" he turns to John, before Sherlock can stop the cold-blooded murderer. He had shot John, straight in the stomach, as he bellowed over. "Poor Virgo, if only you had a weapon of some sort, even a chainsaw, you could really show me a fight! John had looked down and only whimpered: "Sh-...Sherlock..." He had been at his side, as he kneeled down to help him up. "Everything'll be alright!" with a see-through emotion of scared in his voice. "Whatever you do, DON'T DIE!"

The killer had aimed for Sherlock's chest, as the detective held his friend on his back. He was inturrupted by the vulgar swear, "DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE PUT ANY BULLETS IN MY SON." Heather's eyes flashed red, holding the gun she had held THATW as a bright sky blue. Without anyone noticing, she had had it on hand since the time she stepped into 221b. Sherlock had gotten in the other room with John.

The two had been in locked eye contact now, gun pointing at each other. The killer stepped backwards without being noticed, as he pulled the fire alarm. He ran upstairs, Heather quickly followed-for being in her 50's now, she had quite the speed.

The hood had blown off the killer's head, revealing his jet black hair. He turned around, revealing his face. "Mason James..." The words had tumbled off her lips, a familiar name. A tarnished and ripped tin name. "Heather Holmes! Nice to see you!" he laughs, clapping his hands. "How's the family? And your husband? You know, the one I ran over, puncturing his lung, breaking all his ribs, and crushing him to death in the process?" in anger, she aimed for his head, but had missed. but he had been pushed off the roof, he had now held from a balcony below. a bullet had been shot in the air, hitting her in the shoulder.

In pure anger and rage, she had yelled, "YOU WERE THE ONE!" Mason, However, was calm, and smiling, as if he weren't so very close to his death. She aimed closely, calm and trying not to break her cool, as police cars had pulled up, along with fire trucks, as she could see smoke. He must've started a damn fire before coming up here.

She shot him straight in the hand without miss as he fell on to the top of a police car. Tears had shown in her eyes, as she wiped them away and dropped the gun. She saw The three others getting out of the building, along with the other occupants of St Bart's, as the fire was stopped. There was no way to come down, the path upstairs, as she could easily see was blocked. "I've got one shot..." she jumped off the roof, as her shoulder had coursed with pain, but still going, swung from the railing of the first balcony to the next, and so on, catching her breath, then suddenly jumping again, sliding down an escape rope that others had jumped down from, with a safe landing. She smiled a little, actually.

"I still got it." She curtsied, Tears still forming, wiping them away again, and breathed a pleasant, yet frustrated sigh. "I thought I was done with this!" Holding her right shoulder, Sherlock had come up to her, "Mom, you're bleeding!"

"I'm fine, I still have a couple bullets in me since before Mycroft was born!" Sherlock looked at her with a worried and surprised look, as one of the seinor police generals came up to her. "Heather Holmes! It's been quite a while, hasn't it? Let us get you some help." She walked away with him, as an hour later, her wound had been treated.

"You know, as soon as we got the call from Miss Hooper, we knew everyone was in the right hands when we heard Resigned Junior Agent Heather Irving was on the job!" he gave a thumbs up, as a shock blanket had been put on her. "NOPE." she exclaimed slightly, throwing it off. Sherlock came over with a questionable expression, as she had explained. "Back when I was 16, I was home schooled after taking on a huge Serial Killer back then, I was given a job as a junior agent, I wasnt paid until the time I had resigned when I had gotten married only a couple years later. We never told you Sherlock because the British government had a strict policy of secrecy, Mycroft had found out when he had been hired." she'd laugh.

"I knew one day this gun would come in handy again."

Sherlock was is shock, as heather pointed to the culprit. "He just admitted to the causing of the car accident that got my husband killed a week ago." the Officer held a notebook, and noted down. "Added to the ongoing list of felonies."

She smiled as they were driven back to baker street, as a limo had driven up, a "favour" for saving quite the number of lives today.

March 19th, 2012. St. Bart's Hospital.

Sherlock walked into the room of his friend. The bullet was taken out. He would go home to Baker Street today. "Hello, John."

"Sherlock? I'm not going until 12, you're an hour early."

"Of course, I just wanted 'talk' it's what friends do, as dull as it is. I just wanted to clarify what you said yesterday. After you were shot and we were in the other room." John put his hand on his head. "Well, what did you hear?" Sherlock smiled. "From memory, I remember: "I don't want to die, but if you do, Sherlock Holmes, you are the most brilliant man I've every met, and I want to let you know..." and you were cut off. What were you going to say?"

John had paused for a moment, thinking of what he had said before, and thought to himself in his head. "Did I say that I loved him?"

"I'm waiting for an answer." He smiled, as if he already knew. He quickly thought, and told a white lie. "...and I wanted to let you know that I believe that I will remember you until the day I die." he said, nervously, not knowing if he could tell right from wrong.

"You're lying." He comes closer to him, his face only inches away from his. "I love you, too!" He laughs as he stands up next to the bed. "Come on, let's go. I already signed you out.

Heather stood in the door frame. "Sollux and Kanaya is my crack ship. I'd think of them as to get along very well if they barely even talked in canon." Jon got up as she continued. "You know, Sollux and Nepeta would be good too... But the canon ships like Sollux and Feferi, and Feferi and Eridan, hah, Eridan and Sollux are one of my 50 OTPs..."

"You can stop, now."


	7. Chapter 7 The Funeral

The Holmes Mother – Ch 7 The Funeral

Thursday morning, March 22nd, 2012.

Many friends and family dressed in black, including Mycroft who stood as "Father's favorite." They had finished the eulogy, the cliche'd "Not here to mourn the death, but to celebrate the new beginnings", and In a better place" we're scattered throughout. Heather had a slight smile and whispered to her two sons. "You know, after we had moved, I wasn't the only one who had been online 24/7. He begged me to make sure this song was played during his funeral." She walked over to the stereo about a foot away, and pressed play.

"This was a triumph." a soft guitar played. "I'm making a note here: "HUGE SUCCESS." It's hard to overstate my satisfaction."

"That's definitely Dad." Mycroft had smiled now, something he almost never had done in his brother's presence. "Aperture science. We do what we must because we can. For the good of all of us, except the ones who are dead." They tried not to laugh. They failed. "But there's no sense crying over every mistake, you just keep on trying 'till you run out if cake, and the science gets done, and you make a neat gun, for the people who are still alive..." Even Heather had silently laughed, even cried. "That's definitely him."


End file.
